The Day Karma Bit Back
by Scarlett Hyde
Summary: I always laughed at the fanfics where the writer is sucked into their favorite game, movie, show, ect.. However, when I find myself sucked into the Adventures of Tintin movie and chased by Allan, Tom, and the rest of the gang, I quickly realize something. It's only funny when it's someone else. (M for swearing and other shenanigans )
1. Prologue of Nope

A tired, drawn out groan escaped my mouth as I trudged into my room. "Ugh. Bloody Pre-Cal. And just _when_ am I **ever** gonna need to find the possible zeros of a polynomial function?" I grumbled, locking the door. I bitterly answered my own question. " ** _Never_**!" Making an inhuman and stressed groan I flopped face first on my bed. I grabbed the pillow, pressed my face into it, and screamed at the top of my lungs.

After I ran out of air, I came back up for air. "Ok!" I said with forced cheerfulness as I grabbed my computer and shifted around so my back was braced against the headboard. "Let us see he-a."

I opened it and typed in the usual passcode. Once desktop came up I opened Microsoft Word. Waiting and watching the dots, I absentmindedly turned on the TV "Time to work on that story," I said as I went through my files until I found the one I was looking for. "Ah ha! There it be. _Tintin_." I clicked on it and looked between the sub files. "Hmmm… _True Colors_ or _The Black Crab_?" I mused, scratching my head.

With a shrug, I opened _True Colors_. Looking at all the documents, I went down to chapter 14 and opened it. I started typing where I had left off before a strange beeping noise came from my TV.

Narrowing my eyes, I slowly turned to glare at the thing. As usual, _The Adventures of Tintin: Secret of the Unicorn_ was playing. I always kept it in for background noise. But it seemed to have frozen. Tintin was leaning out of the porthole with the makeshift grappling hook he had made with rope and planks.

I grabbed my remote and tried unpausing it. No such luck. It stayed frozen.

Another groan, this one agitated, left my mouth as I set the computer beside me. "Knew I should have put in Kids Next Door, damn it."

I swung my legs around and planted my feet on the floor. Grunting as I pushed myself out of my bed, I then stalked stiff legged over to the TV. I glared at it, then gave it a small hit to the side.

A whirring sound was my answer.

Before I could let out a cuss word, a blinding white flash followed by a loud clamp of what sounded like thunder filled my room.

I screamed and tried to recoil in shock, but I suddenly felt myself being sucked forward.

I quickly grabbed the sides of the TV and tried to push away. "Hell nah! I… will… _not_ … be… sucked… in!" I yelled, grunting with the effort. I refused to become like those girls in those fanfictions who were sucked into their favorite movie, show, book, game, ect. I would not.

Regretfully, the TV had other ideas. Another crack of thunder sounded, and it all went black.

* * *

 **Yes, this prologue is short. No, I do not care.**

 **After getting a loverly idea from a doodle I did of myself being chased my an angry Allan and out-of-breath Tom while holding a crab tin above my head, I decided to write this. Because why not?**

 **Do y'all think I should continue this? I have about 5 other stories I am working on (two of them unrelated Tintin stories with just the Karaboudjan folks), so depending on how many like this I may or may not continue. This story will take me (literally me) through the movie.**

 **Hilarity shall ensue.**


	2. Ch 1 Beginning of a glorious nopefest

Allan Thompson was angry. No, not angry. That word was not nearly strong enough to describe the feeling he felt.

He was **furious**.

How had that ginger pipsqueak escaped his bonds, the cage, and the hold?! Not only that, he had managed to fool them into thinking they were in a shootout when it was only champagne bottles.

"He's not 'ere. He's vanished," Tom said from beside him, peering around the dimly lit hold.

Allan wanted to smack the man. As if he couldn't see that for himself. He ignored Tom, even when a cork shook loose and hit the shorter man square in the forehead and felled him. "He's hiding," Allan growled, glaring around, "Search the ship! Quickly!"

Ali and Ernie scrambled to carry out his orders, but Tom remained unconscious on the floor. Allan rolled his eyes and bent down to shake the dimwit awake. Once he caught that meddlesome boy, he'd flay him alive and throw the remains overboard. His hands itched to catch that twerp and make good the threat he promised while setting up the TNT.

A low groan from within the hold caused him to shoot up and spin, gun pointed in the direction of the noise. His sharp eyes scanned the dim room and finally settled on a small limp form a few feet from the cage.

Narrowing his eyes, he slowly approached the limp figure. His finger hovered above the trigger, ready to shoot. Once he realized the person was face down and unconscious, he slipped the gun back in its holster. If they were trouble, he could easily overpower them in hand-to-hand combat.

The figure was no bigger than that damned journalist had been. They wore a dark navy long sleeved shirt, light beige pants, and dark tan boots with black soles. The kid had dark brown, medium length hair.

Allan kneeled by them, confused at how they got here. They hadn't been here earlier. This person's clothing wasn't like anything he was used to seeing. Also, how had they gotten aboard? No one had mentioned a kid coming aboard. A stowaway?

Using his free hand, the first mate took hold of the kid's shoulder and rolled them from their belly to their back. To his annoyance, it was difficult to tell if it was a male or female. That would have made it easier to figure out how they got here. If it was female, it was very likely one of the man brought her on. If male, he probably snuck aboard to free Tintin.

The kid groaned again, this time making to sit up. "Bloody hell," they muttered, hand going to the back of their head. "Freakin' TV. Beeping and whiring and all that weird shit."

Allan raised an eyebrow. TV? At least the resonating tone helped Allan to guess the person was male.

The kid gave a small shake of their head, blinked open their eyes, and promptly screamed bloody murder.

~My POV~

I leapt back and away as fast as possible as I screamed. Luckily, the sudden shrill noise startled him, his body rocking back briefly. The bad news, however, was the scream woke Tom up.

"Huh? Wha?" he said, eyes darting around. He finally looked over towards us. "Hey, who is tha-"

"Both of you stay the hell away from me!" I screeched, scrambling to my feet. My eyes were wild, and I not doubt looked deranged. "I mean it!"

Allan glared at me and stood up. "Who are you to be giving orders?"

I wasn't listening to his as I gripped the sides on my head and began to hyperventilate. This had to be a dream. This couldn't be real. It could not. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening!"

"What isn't happening?" Tom groaned, hand holding his forehead as he approached. His expression was only perplexed, unlike Allan's confused and angry one.

I pointed an accusing, stiff finger at them. "You… you are just my imagination! You d-don't exist! You c-can't!" I shrieked.

Tom and Allan exchanged a glance. They no doubt thought I was crazy. But that was the least of my worries. I didn't give two shits about what they thought at the moment.

"This is a dream! This is just a dream! I'm only dreaming!" That was it! All I had to do was wake myself up. Glancing wildly around, I decided on my wake up method. Turning to face the wall, I squared my shoulders and took off at a dead sprint. Even if I didn't wake up, I'd ran right through.

This was just a dream, after all. You could run through walls in dreams.

I was less than prepared for the wall remaining _very_ much **real**. Head spinning, and hurting like a son of a gun, I fell backwards and landed on the hard, _very_ **real** metal floor of the hold.

I hadn't passed through the wall or woken up. That could only mean one thing.

This wasn't a dream.

It was _**real**_.

"SON OF A-"

* * *

 **Here we go! First chapter yay!  
So, apparently I'm a crazy. **

**Hopefully I don't screw up Allan and Tom's character in this.**


	3. Ch 2 No, I don't know why I'm here

"BISCUIT!"

Allan watched as the stranger covered their face with their hands and yelled at the top of their lungs. He had at first been angry with the kid screaming in his face, but then confusion set in when the kid began yelling nonsense about how they should not and could not exist. It turned to amusement, however, when the kid ran full speed into the wall.

What was that supposed to do? And why does he keep going on about dreams? Allan thought.

Tom leaned over and whispered, "What is wrong wit' 'im?"

Allan shrugged. "What does it matter?" he asked the stocky man, "He's no doubt in league with Tintin. We'll interrogate him on where that boy is hiding."

"Oh hell nah!" the kid screeched, quickly flipping back to their feet and climbing to the top of a crate pile. Once he reached the top, he turned and glared down at the two men. "You keep your twisted selves away from me!" His blue eyes were wild and hair stuck out everywhere.

Allan glared up at him. On one hand, the boy running into the wall had been funny. This yelling and ordering, on the other hand, was far from it. "I don't take orders from stowaways!" He leveled his gun at the boy.

The crazed look quickly switched to fear and he ducked down. "Hold it, Allan!"

Allan's eyes flew wide. "How do you know my name?" he demanded, grip tightening around the gun.

The boy showed him the palm of his right hand. "Look, I know more than just that, and I'll even tell you, but on two conditions. You put the gun away and don't attack me if I come back down there," he tried to reason.

Allan narrowed his eyes. He refused to make any promise not to flay this boy alive, but he also badly wanted to know how the kid knew his name. He snarled and shoved the gun back into his belt. "Fine," he hissed, glaring at the kid, "Now get down here."

Brows furrowed in a look of uncertainty, the boy hopped down until he was one crate above Allan and Tom. He eyed them cautiously, ready to leap back up at any moment.

Tom stepped forward, probably to grab the kid. The boy's eyes shot towards him. "Tom, you put your gun away too."

Tom stopped in his tracks, shock flooding his face. "Ya know my name, too?" he blurted.

The kid nodded. "Yes, I do. As I said to Allan, I know more than just y'all's first names," he said, the conjugation of _you_ and _all_ tipping Allan off to whereabouts the kid was from.

"You're from the states, aren't you?" Allan asked.

Blue eyes shifted towards him. "Yes… southern states area. Now, before you ask the question of how I got here, I'm gonna tell you straight up that I have no clue whatsoever."

Allan scowled. How could the kid have no clue how they got here? "Do you have amnesia or something?"

The kid sighed curtly. "Look, man. All I know is I'm typing on my computer, and then suddenly my TV starts doing weird shit, freezing up and beeping. I get up, pissed, and hit the damn thing. Then it whirs, and there's a blinding flash and a clap of thunder. Next thing I know, I get sucked into the TV and into my favorite movie."

Allan scoffed. "You honestly expect me to believe that bull-shit?" he hissed, hand going for his gun again.

The kid scowled. "Your name is Allan Thompson, that dork beside you is your friend, Tom. You are the first mate of this ship, the Karaboudjan. You keep your captain, Archibald Haddock, drunk off his ass with whisky so you, Allan, can run this ship the way you want to. Some time ago, the movie never gives a timeframe, you get approached by a man who just _screams_ pedophile. That man's name is Ivan Sakharine. Apparently, according to what I remember, he pays you or something and you agree to help him find these three scrolls from three ships that combine to give coordinates.

"Strangely enough these ships date back to Haddock's ancestor Sir Francis and the Unicorn, which was quite a debacle and general shitshow. Tintin, the famed reporter, was kidnapped by you earlier today and was in that cage when you left but now that you have come back he has disappeared into thin air when in fact he actually went, literally, right out the window after his little white dog came in and freed him from his cage and the bonds." The scowl turned to a smirk. "Do I have your attention now?"

Allan stared at the boy, mouth open with shock. "That's… that's not possible," he rasped. It couldn't be. There was no way.

A humorless laugh answered him. "Looks like we're both in a dilemma here, then. Neither of us want to admit this is happening, but yet here I am."

Allan glared at him. "Ok, smart ass. If this is your favorite movie, then who are your favorite characters?"

Was it just him, or did the kid go red in the face?

"Er… ah… uh… Well," the kid laughed nervously, rubbing the back of their neck, "I can't really say. Might, what's the word, complicate things."

The tall sailor snorted. "If you don't tell me, I'll assume you're lying." He let his voice take on the deadly tone he used often to scare men out of their pants. "You don't want that."

"Oh, trust me. I've done enough background research on you to know that for a fact. That scary tone really ain't necessary, I'm terrified enough of your mere presence. Well, alright, I'll tell you. Or rather… I'll show you." The kid hopped off the crate and jogged over to where a canvas covered crate sat near the door.

Allan followed him, eyes narrowed. What was he doing? "Show us how?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm gonna get my two favorite characters to chase me," the boy answered, then began rummaging around in one of the crates after pulling the canvas off. "Hmm, let's see let's see. Ah!"

"How are ya gonna do that?" Tom asked, tone not at all mad but simply curious.

"Oh, simple," the kid said, reaching down into the open crate. "First, I reach down in this crate."

Allan rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous, he reached for his gun, but the kid's next step caused him to freeze.

"Then I pull out this crab tin filled with _opium_."

How does he know about that? Allan thought, shock widening his eyes.

The kid smirked, moving his head in an odd rolling motion as he said, "And then I book it."

Before Allan could blink, the kid bolted out of the room, taking the tin with him.


	4. Ch 3 Cue epic and suspenseful music

I ran as fast as I could down the hall, tin held high above my head.

Allan's angry roar of "Get him!" echoed after me, and the sound of heavy pursuing footsteps reached my ears.

Heart pounding and blood roaring in my ears, I thought back how ironic it was that I was in the same predicament that I had put my character in with _True Colors._

 _Problem is, I ain't no Alphian. I'm just a human._

"Once I catch you, I'll flay you alive, you little shit!"

 _A human who is about to get her ass kicked by a very angry and very scary sailor if I don't get my ass moving faster._

They were almost on my heels now, and growing closer each second.

Damn was I out of shape.

I was out of breath, but I kept a grin on my face. Although Allan chasing me, possibly murder on his agenda, was terrifying, running at full speed was exhilarating. I hadn't had a reason to run like this for quite some time. I let out a loud yell and pushed myself to go even faster.

It worked until I ran myself to the end of the hall, a door at the end. It was closed.

I had two options at that point.

Dart into a side room, or toss the can over my head and hop it stops them long enough for me to open the door.

I threw the can behind me, and judging by the yell of pain it hit Allan.

The footsteps skid to a stop for a fraction, and in that time I had reached the door and tugged on the handle.

And, as per Murphy's Law, it was locked.

"Are bloody kidding me?!" I screeched.

Two massive hands clamped down on my shoulders. My year and a half of karate kicked in, and I stepped forward. Luckily I actually managed to get my attacker, presumably Allan, off balance. I then hooked my arm around their arms as I turned, succeeding in trapping their elbows.

I found myself face to face with a very shocked Tom, his eyes wide. "How did ya-"

"Karate, mate. Second degree green belt. Plus, when your boyfriend is a second degree black belt you learn extra bits. Now, I really do not want to deliver a cock shot to you, so if I let you go it'd be best if you'd take a few steps back. Savvy?"

He quickly nodded.

I released him and he reeled back and stood beside Allan.

The brown eyed first mate was giving me a death stare, gun pointed at me once again. "That was a poor move, kid. Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you," he snarled.

I gulped. "Well," I said, chuckling nervously as I showed my hands, "I'll admit my plan wasn't too well thought out. But hey, at least I managed to do as I said."

"Which was?"

I offered a nervous smile. "I got my favorite characters to chase me, didn't I?"

It took a moment, but when the meaning of my words hit him, the gun slowly lowered. "Wait… _we're_ your favorite characters?"

I nodded. "Although, if I'm being completely honest, that's very liable to change if your pull the trigger. Getting shot does put a damper on things. Just, you know, a minor inconvenience."

He frowned at my sarcasm, then looked down before bringing his eyes back to mine. "Why?"

"Why are you my favorite characters?" I guessed.

"Aye. It doesn't make sense."

"This is true. You're evil, twisted, and I had no doubt you'd kill me if I ever truly met you. Well, at least I was sure you would, Allan. I figured I might have a bit of a better chance with Tom there." I sighed. "But you know, always rooting for the good looking, good hearted hero who always saves the day and gets the girl gets dull after a while. I mean, you _know_ they're gonna win. They _have_ to, it's a movie. Why not root for the bad guy, who might not look so attractive and probably won't get the girl at the end. No offense," I said, adding the last part with a nervous laugh.

Allan didn't address my insult(?), but addressed a different part of the statement. "So, you're on our side?" he asked.

I hesitated. In every story I had written with them- _True Colors, Journey, The Black Crab_ , and all of the **_Karaboudjan_** _Shenanigans_ miniseries- I had been on their side. But in all cases, except with _The_ _Black Crab_ which was set in a different timeline from the others, I had been not human. I had been an alien species that did as I pleased. For the most part. Allan still scared me shitless in all of them.

But I was not that here. I was just me. But how could I pass the opportunity up? It'd make a great story of I ever got back home.

I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Ah, what the hell? It might get me killed, but I mean I'm probably never going home anyway. Sure, I'll be on your side."

Allan holstered his gun and stepped forward. He extended his hand. "Shake on it," he ordered.

I eyed his hand cautiously. Slowly, I reached up and shook it. It had was rough and, as I had described in True Colors, like a catcher's mitt.

 _Damn I wasn't wrong_ , I thought as I let go. I looked up at him. "Er, Allan? One last thing."

"Yes?"

"I'm not a boy. I'm a girl."

"…What?"


	5. Ch 4 What's In a Name?

Allan stared down at the kid before him, not certain he had heard right. "Enough jokes, kid. That was not funny. You think I'm blind?"

The kid opened her mouth, raising a finger up to point out something, but quickly snapped her mouth shut. "I'm not gonna say anything. It'd be best if I don't."

This kid can't be a girl. They just can't be. "Prove it."

The kid's head rocked back and an offended expression swept over her face. "No thank you, sir. I'll keep my shirt on, if you don't mind."

Allan rolled his eyes. "I did not mean remove your shirt. I meant, prove that you are in fact a female."

The kid scowled, glaring up at Allan. She reached up, slipped a hand inside her shirt collar, hooked her finger around a strap hidden by the shirt, and pulled it out. She held it there for a moment, then let it go. It snapped loudly back against her skin.

Allan was now convinced. He had seen another strap that looked like a tank-top, and that had been camo colored. Ignoring the fact that the kid had done something unheard of, he said, "Er, I guess I was wrong," he mumbled.

"Ya guess?" the kid scoffed, crossing her arms.

He gave her a warning glare. "Watch it…"

Her ears shifted back and her head tucked closer to her shoulders. "Sorry. I'm very sarcastic…" she apologized with a weak smile.

Allan simply groaned, looking skyward as if to appeal to any deity for an answer to why he had the luck to be stuck with a sarcastic teen obviously not from his time. "Why me?"

"Vhy you? Vhy anyone?"

The taller sailor and his stockier companion did a double take towards the suddenly German kid.

"By thunder, what was that?" Allan asked as Tom stood gaping.

The kid laughed, "Er, that was me quoting a part in a book where a character is quoting someone else. Slaughter House Five, and it's not about what you'd think."

"Ya read a lot?"

Allan glanced at Tom from the corner of his eye. The blue eyed man seemed to have recovered from the shock of the sudden German accent as he stood looking down towards the kid with an interested expression.

A small laugh answered his question. "Indeed I do! Well, granted it's not as much as I used to. I'm more of a writer now."

Now Allan was curious, but he knew that if he didn't return to Sakharine soon the man would have his hide. "Tom, we have to get back to the boss and tell him what happened." He looked down at the kid. "You're coming too. What do we call you?"

The kid was silent, and Allan thought he saw panic flare in her face. She finally responded after a few moments. "Call me… Ice. Or Scar. Don't care which."

"Your real name," Allan growled as he turned and began walking to the upper decks.

"Can we take a rain check on real names?" she asked, trotting behind him as Tom fell into step beside her.

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"You really think that'll change my mind?"

"Perhaps."

"You are not a cat. Do not purr."

"Like purring is on my to-do list in your presence. Call it habit. Beside, my true name is not important."

"Yes, it is."

"A rose by any other name is still a rose."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Why the fascination with my true name, buster?"

"Call me buster one more time and I will bust your lip."

"Well then how can I tell you my true name?"

Allan gave a loud yell of frustration. "Just shut up, for the love of God!" He was met with the sweet sound of silence. _Finally, she shut up_.

"Are we there yet?"

 _For Pete's sake!_

 ** _~My POV~_**

I fought to keep myself from giggling. Teasing Allan was fun, as was his reaction. _This could be fun so long as he doesn't flip his shit and try to murder me_. "Sorry. You're funny when you're upset."

Allan stopped abruptly and spun around, eyes blazing.

My face fell, no doubt in a comical manner, and I quickly darted behind Tom. Pulling him in front of me, I shouted, "Human shield!"

Shoulders stiff and arms raised, Tom looked down at me. "Why the hell are ya using me as a human shield?"

"To avoid the wolf trying to eat me!" I retorted, hands gripping his sides as I glared at Allan from around Tom's torso.

"Eat you?!" Allan exclaimed, eyes widening. "I am not a cannibal!"

"That's what they all say!" I argued, pointing a finger at him.

Allan finally threw his arms up. "Hang it all, I give up!" He strode away from me and Tom at almost a jogging pace, leaving me and the sailor alone.

Tom looked at me. "Can ya get out from behind me now?"

I slowly stepped around and looked after Allan. "I guess we follow him?"

"Yeah… we do have to tell the boss the kid escaped. Well, the other kid I guess."

I frowned as I remembered how mean Sakharine was to both Tom and Allan. I hated that pedophile. "Rat piss. I hate that red coated fiend."

Tom laughed as he continued walking. "Yeah… I don't like 'im much either. But he is better than 'addock."

"Touché," I agreed, following him.

"So, ya said you were a writer?"

"Indeed I did."

"What do ya write? Romantic?" he asked.

I huffed. "Knight in shining armor that saves the damsel in distress? Sexist and ridiculous. I prefer sci-fi and fantasy. Also do some historical fiction as well and fanfics."

"What's a fanfic?"

I laughed loudly and nervously. I did not want to answer that. "That, my friend, is a loaded question. Depends on who you ask. The literal translation is a story written by a fan of a movie, book, TV show, ect. using characters of that fictional universe. The other... well we won't talk about that."

"Why not? What's so bad about them?" Tom asked, tone curious.

"Welp, ya see, the other is little better than porn sometimes. Those writers give the rest of us a bad name," I growled, teeth bared in a snarl. I hated getting confused with those sex hungry maniacs.

"Have ya ever written one with us?"


	6. Ch 6 Deal or No Deal? Make up your mind

I nearly tripped as my legs locked up. Of all the questions, that was _not_ one I had anticipated.

Tom's hand wrapped around my bicep and he helped me right myself. "Woah, ya ok?" he exclaimed, making sure I was steady.

I took a deep breath. "Er, ah, yeah. Just kinda caught me off guard. It's kinda weird when a character asks if you've written stories with them, aye?" I sighed, steadying myself. "But yes, I have written stories dealing with you guys," I answered, glancing at the hand wrapped around my arm. The dude had some rough hands. I flexed my arm and gave a small tug.

Tom took the hint and let go. "Really?" he asked, sounding almost excited, "How many? What were they about?"

 _So, we're playing twenty questions now? How lovely._ I raised an eyebrow. "You got really excited just now. Curious bugger, ain't you?"

Tom laughed, sound echoing down the hall. "Allan tells me that." He started walking again.

I tried my best to match his pace. He wasn't going fast, but his legs had a few good inches on mine. Thankfully, my stride was faster than his and I did not have too much trouble. "Well, there were small short stories I did called Karaboudjan shenanigans which basically included different random funny stories with mainly you, me, and Allan."

"Wait," Tom said with a frown, glancing down at me. "Allan scares ya half to death, but he is still one of the main ones you write with?"

I frowned. "Well, put it like that, I sound almost psycho don't I?" I remarked dryly.

We turned a corner and Tom led the way to a staircase as he tried to stammer out a response. "I didn't say that!" the sailor exclaimed.

I laughed at his attempt to backtrack. Seemed most people got his personality right when they made him a dork instead of an asshole. Must have been going off the movie version, because there had been a difference between that and the comics/animated TV show. From what I could tell, at least.

"It's fine, man! I'm a psycho in training anyway! Aka a highly functioning sociopath!" I said proudly with a smirk. _Well done, Robin. First you make them think you're crazy, then you make them think you're deranged. You sure do know how to make an impression._

Tom hesitantly laughed along, probably unsure if he should laugh too or not. After all, generally you don't laugh when a person admits to a mental disorder. "If ya say so," he said.

We had reached the top of the stairs when the ship suddenly rolled under my feet. Although I remained perfectly stable, Tom grabbed my arm. I looked down at the hand for the second time tonight. "Uh... fam? What you be doin'? I've been on a ship before. My sea legs are perfectly fine," I told him.

 _Granted, that ship probably had much better stabilizers than this one, but nuance._

He chuckled nervously and let go of my arm. "Sorry. I just thought... since yer... well... ya know..." He trailed off awkwardly, making helpless gestures at me with his hands.

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "A female? A kid? A female kid?" I asked dryly.

Again came that slightly adorable nervous chuckle. "Well... yeah. Girls aren't often found on ships."

 _Why ever could that be?_ My upper lip twitched as if I had whiskers. "Nah... really? I thought shore leave was just for shits and giggles." I sighed, shaking my head. "I'll tell you this, Tom, if Allan is my first fear, the rest of the crew's urges come in a pretty close second."

Perhaps I was judging them at face value. Perhaps I was being sexist. But with even a slight chance of it happening, I was concerned. Even _voluntary_ fun time didn't exactly seem fun to me. Yet a _nother_ reason I was different from many girls my age.

Tom was silent, probably unsure how to respond.

I glanced up at him. "I don't have to worry about you too... do I? It'd be nice to have one person I can relax around," I said.

He shook his head. "No, I won't... er..." Again with more helpless gestures. This boy had issues getting his words out of his mouth. "Do anything to ya. You can trust me," he assured me.

I laughed. "Well that's a relief!" The ship rolled again under my feet, much more violently than the first time. Keeping my balance was much harder than last time, and I crashed into Tom.

 _Yep, different from stabilized ships! Real different!_

Luckily the man caught me before I fell. I glanced up at him and laughed nervously. "Welp, gravity works!"

He laughed and stood me up again. "Thought you had been on a ship before!" he exclaimed as he turned and began walking.

 _Ha ha! About that…_ "It may or may not have been one with stabilizers," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck as we turned a corner.

"Shocking."

Both Tom and I jumped at the sound of Allan's voice from up ahead. The first mate was leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and a blank expression.

"Annnnndd good feeling's gone," I muttered, but I had a smirk on my face.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't start with me, kid," he groaned, glaring at me.

I realized I was severely antagonizing a very dangerous and violent man. It had been fun at first, but I definitely should stop. I dipped my head. "Alright, alright. I'll stop. Sorry," I apologized, looking down.

Allan grunted. "Finally," he grumbled, then opened the door and stepped outside.

The sound of rain summoned a frown to my face. "Oh, goody," I grumbled as I stepped out into it. Rain pelted my face like a waterlogged swarm of pissy bees. "Just what I need. A monsoon."

 **Allan pov**

What was with that kid?! Why was she so annoying and why did she back talk so much? Allan honestly wished he had shot her on sight.

But there was still the possibility of her knowing the future. Or at least what counted as the "movie". Allan still hadn't found a way to wrap his brain around that. Just when he thought he did as he pleased…

"Al-"

The kid stopped abruptly, leaving Allan curious as to what she planned to say.

" _Mr_. Allan."

 _So she does know how to be respectful. Now if only she could stay like that._ "What, kid?"

"Listen… if you still don't believe me about this being a movie, I can tell you what will happen in there."

Allan stopped and turned around. He blinked at the sight before him.

Wet hair hanging down in her face and her shirt clinging to her, she seemed to have shrunk. But now the outline of strong shoulders was visible as well. She hadn't been lying about karate.

He ignored the rain pelting the back of his neck and asked, "Oh really?"

She nodded, reaching up and putting her dripping hair behind her ears. "Once you tell Sakharine you lost Tintin, he's gonna slam you into the wall and growl, 'How could you let them escape? Find them, find them both'. He'll then give you orders to keep Haddock alive, and after hooking his sword cane around both of your necks with more monologue, he'll say 'We go back a long way, Haddock and I. We have unfinished business. And this time, I'm going to make him… pay.'"

She shrugged. "If I'm wrong, you can shoot me and chuck my ass overboard."

Allan blinked. That was a lot of faith to place in herself. And while Allan would love nothing more than to do as she said, for he already had issues with one kid, having a future seer would come in very handy.

The kid hesitantly extended a hand. "Deal?" she ventured.

 _What have I got to lose?_ Allan shook her hand. "Fine. Deal." He let her hand go and turned back to continue walking towards the bridge.

"Mr. Allan!"

Allan turned at the shout from behind him. To his shock, he saw Jumbo running towards him. The man seemed to have trouble as he ran, staggering or tripping every now and then.

Racing up to them, he saluted Allan and gasped, "S-Sir! The captain! He's escaped!"

"What?!" Allan shouted, grabbing the front of his shirt.

Jumbo gulped and continued, "I was takin' the booze hound another bottle, but that reporter was there! Him and his white dog! The captain and him beat me up! Knocked me out!"

Allan dropped his crew mate and turned to the kid. "Did you know about this?!" he roared at her.

Shrinking under his angry glare, she yelped, "I forgot!"

Deal leaving his head, he pulled back a fist and swung at her.

He was not expecting the painful block she delivered to his arm, nor her reaching her other hand up and placing it against his chin. She turned his head back, and the next thing he knew she was _throwing_ him behind her.

He hit the deck, but it didn't hurt. Sitting up, he looked at the kid with disbelief.

She stood facing him, eyes wide. "Sorry!"

Allan merely blinked at her. "What… how did you…?"

The kid stammered, "K-Karate. Soft style. I d-don't want to fight you."

 _Don't want to fight me? When I get my hands on her…_

Tom stepped in front of her. "Ya made a deal! Can ya at _least_ honor this one?!"

Allan glared at his crewmate. Did he really ask that?

"You catch him later!"

His eyes went to the kid. She poked her head out from behind Tom. "When in Bagghar. You catch him again. Yes, he escapes the ship, but that's how you get the scrolls!"

Tom glanced back at her, then glared at Allan. "At least give 'er a chance!"

He groaned at pushed himself to his feet. "Fine. But this is your one pass, kid," he growled, and looked at Jumbo. "Tell the ship to be on high alert. Find them."

The man nodded and raced away again.

Allan glared at the kid again, then turned and stormed towards the bridge. To his surprise, and anger, unease stirred in the pit of his stomach.

The boss would be angry, that was certain. Allan really didn't want to be shoved into a wall, but if the kid said that would happen…

 _She is a_ _ **kid**_ _! A disrespectful one at that. I should have just shot her in the hold…_

But she hadn't been wrong before. She knew what he had done, more about Haddock's family than even Allan himself, and even knew about the secret cargo. Allan hadn't even told Sakharine what he shipped.

Taking a deep breath, Allan opened the door and stepped inside. The boss was missing, probably in the other room. He turned and waited while the kid and Tom stepped in after him.

He watched with partial amusement went the kid shook herself off like a dog, water flying in all directions. She stopped, strands of hair stuck to her face. The corners of her mouth turned down in an almost comical frown as she pawed it out of her face. "Oh, for Pete's sake. First I'm nearly torn to shreds, now my hair won't cooperate."

Allan looked up at Tom and pointed at him. "Keep her here. Do not let her leave."

Tom's face flooded with confusion. "But Al, where would she run to?"

Allan spoke through his teeth. "Just watch her."

He stormed off to find the boss.

 **My POV**

I watched as he vanished into a separate room. Looking up towards Tom, I muttered, "I've done made an enemy outta him, haven't I?"

Tom stared after his friend and scratched his head. "Well, this whole thing has him stressed…"

"And I'm making it worse," I finished. I groaned and shook my head. "Of _course_ I make an enemy out of the scariest and most deadly man on the ship."

Tom looked down at me. "Ya ain't scared of the boss?"

I met his gaze. "Who actually carries his orders out?"

Realization flickered in Tom's eyes. "Oh…"

"Allan," we replied in unison.

I nodded. "Yup."

The door opened again behind us and Pedro came in, carrying a machine gun. Seeing me, he stopped dead. "Another prisoner?" he asked.

I shook my head and answered before Tom could. " _No. Soy amiga_." I frowned. "Or… something like that. Three years of Spanish and I still mix things up. Anyway, 'sup Pedro?"

His eyes went even wider and he looked to Tom. "Did you tell her my name?!"

Tom shook his head. "She knows…" he frowned. "Things."

Pedro looked at me again, eyes wide. "Diablo!"

My brows furrowed. "Huh. Rude much?"

The door opened and Allan came back in, followed by Sakharine. "What is it now?"

Allan stopped and turned to face him. "Er, we… lost the kid. And the captain is working with him now-"

In no time, Sakharine had grabbed Allan's coat front and shoved him into the wall. "How could you let them escape?"

 _And there it is. Checkmate, mothertrucker._

* * *

Well, would you look at that. I've returned from the dead on this story. For this chapter at least... and maybe the next.

I may actually have to discontinue this story. I've lost the plans (only stored in my head). There's randomness floating around in my head, some bits here and there. Incomplete ideas, ridiculous ones, something about a wormhole-thingy in the ship, not getting affected by wounds since I'm on a different plane of reality in the universe, and crazy shit like that.

Depending on what you watchers (all one of you) think, I may upload the little drafts I have in my phone notes that I write when bored. Up to you though. If I get no word back, this story will be discontinued after the next chapter. I WILL finish Black Crab, because I'll be damned if I don't.

But for this story... there may be only one complete chapter left...

Sorry to let y'all down.


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